Self-sabotage

So, I've had some time to calm down. I regressed into some self-destructive behaviour last night. Shortly after I started this blog, I wrote a post about a guy. The guy. The one I just can't seem to stop thinking about. So since I've been off sick due to surgery, I've had a bit more time on my hands. I decided to check out this new internet phenomenon everyone's talking about... yep, Facebook. Minutes after I logged on, an old friend I'd lost touch with sent me a message. I started to search for people from my past. First on the list was, of course, the guy. He was there. I checked out his profile. He's now in a relationship, and has a son. My heart went in my throat and I thought I was going to faint. He had some pictures up. It hit me like a ton of bricks, to be cliche. Why is there always that one guy? The one we wonder about forever, the one we know we weren't meant to be with, but we still call "the one"? I was talking with a friend about it today. My friend is 50 and her "one" was someone she met when she was 15. Heck, I was barely born! And to this day, this 15 year old kid is her "one" that she can't forget. The one she "what if"s about. This kid could have been mine! You know, it's funny. He had a pony tail in one of his pictures. I hate pony tails. He hasn't aged that well. And he's been working at the same place for over 10 years, in computer tech, despite the fact that he as a psych degree and a 4.0 grade average from university. But I don't care. He's my one. The one whose web site I kept going back to to check up on, until he no longer had one I could find. The one I keep Googling but can't find due to his god damn all too common name. The one who made me so happy when I noticed years after I'd last seen him that his company's domain was listed as a recent visitor to my website. And I probably shouldn't have sought him out. But I found him. And now I have to deal with that open wound again. Damn it. Damn it. Damn it.